


empty bedside manner

by castleinthesky (choirboyharem)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choirboyharem/pseuds/castleinthesky
Summary: “Better keep quiet.” Pete slid his hand up Patrick’s shirt, fingers splayed, covering nearly half of Patrick’s ribcage. Patrick closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Better make sure Mommy doesn’t hear.”
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 21





	empty bedside manner

_ One, two, three, four, five— _

Pete’s breath trembled in the crook of his neck. Patrick felt his heart beat in his ears, at the base of his spine, in the column of his throat, thumping in time to the rush of blood through his system. He heard Pete laugh as quietly as he could, a harsh little rush of air that escaped between a turned-up mouth. 

“Better keep quiet.” Pete slid his hand up Patrick’s shirt, fingers splayed, covering nearly half of Patrick’s ribcage. Patrick closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Better make sure Mommy doesn’t hear.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Patrick whispered, barely making a noise through how choked up he was. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Pete didn’t answer him and instead tilted his head up to kiss Patrick on the mouth, full and firm. It was rough and wet and warm and it tasted like coffee and cheap beer. Patrick’s head tipped back, following the fingers that clenched in his hair, clinging to chunks that threatened to break away from his scalp. He made yet another pathetic, miserable little attempt to pull Pete off him, the back of his heel digging into Pete’s back, lifting and shoving back down, grinding in. The corners of Patrick’s eyes began to sting. 

Pete’s hand drew itself down and pushed just past the waist of Patrick’s boxer briefs. It was only just enough so it caught on the band, bending it in the middle, but it was also only just enough to make Patrick’s insides turn to lead. Pete’s hand slid further. 

The door to his mother’s room opened again. Pete froze. Patrick began to count again, his breathing quick and shallow. 

_ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven— _

The bathroom door snapped shut. Pete pushed his hand down Patrick’s boxer briefs and curled chapped fingers around his cock. 

Patrick didn’t know when the bathroom door opened again, but it felt too soon. Time was a little warped. He clenched his teeth and turned his head to the side, feeling a tear roll down his cheek as he moved. He couldn’t remember to count as he heard his mother walk back across the hallway, Pete’s hand unmoving on his dick. Each second seemed to repeat itself. His mind was no longer properly functioning. Time had slowed down along with the mechanisms of his brain. 

The bedroom door shut again and Patrick sniffled. “I hate you,” he managed, shuddering and letting out a whiny little moan as Pete stroked his hand up, kissing the underside of Patrick’s jaw. 

Pete brushed Patrick’s sweaty bangs away from his flushed forehead and kissed his cheek this time. Pete sighed, resting his forehead in the crook of Patrick’s neck. “I know,” he murmured, sounding hollow. “It’s fine.” 

Patrick felt wetness on Pete’s face, too, and the only thing he could really think about while Pete was jerking him off and sucking a middle-school hickey onto his neck was how sickeningly unfair that was. 


End file.
